Page 221 of Spicy Ever After
“I convinced my parents to let me use money from my trust fund to invest and?—”
“You—” A mallet to the skull would be less stunning. “What did you say?”
Hattie spares me a pitying look. “My trust fund. They’re letting me withdraw $250K to invest in the farm.”
“Ha-Hattie—” Word stick like I’ve swallowed a fishbone. I clear my throat hard. “They couldn’t have. Are you being serious right now?”
There’s no way. No way they’d agree to that. They’ve met me once. And they weren’t all that impressed.
“Total seriousness.” Hattie nods wide-eyed. “It’s an investment, and I know it’s a good one.”
My eyes narrow. “They think it’s a good investment?”
I know Hattie believes in me, in the farm, and in my vision for its future. But I can’t imagine she could persuade her parents see things her way in the span of an afternoon.
Hattie blinks like I’ve asked a bizarre question. “I’m not sure. They just don’t want me to sell my townhouse.”
What the hell?!
“Sell your?—”
“Yeah, I told them I would sell it to help buy out your uncle.” She ducks her head and lowers her voice like someone might be spying on us. “It was a negotiation tactic. I didn’t really want to sell the townhouse. But I would have if they hadn’t let me access my trust.”
My eyebrows have climbed into my hair. I know about her trust fund. Her parents have built it to make sure she’s always okay.
Not to buy a sweet potato farm.
“Hattie—you—that’s?—”
Her eyes light up like a kid who’s just won at UNO. “I’m going to co-own a farm!”
My heart squeezes with a wild joy at the thought.
Then my stomach drops.
“But your parents set up that trust for you.” I’m already shaking my head. “To help you. You can’t?—”
“I can. It’s mine,” she insists, her features firming in an all-business expression I’ve never seen on her. “That money is there to help me live a better life. Well, helping to save your farm will make my life better.”
I stare at her and then I shake my head again because she can’t be serious.
This is crazy.
“This i-is too much. It’s too big. Isn’t this exactly what your parents were worried about?” I’m still shaking my head. Violently. “Someone taking advantage of you?”
Hattie scowls. “You’re not taking advantage of me, Beck. This is what I want.”
The way she says my name? She sounds serious, but—no. Just no.
“Since when? You met me two months ago.” My heart gives another squeeze because is that all it’s been? Two months? It feels like Hattie has been my soul’s forwarding address since the dawn of time. “What if two months from now, you regret it? And you’ve sunk a quarter million dollars into—into this?” I wave a hand out across the horizon toward all our fields and farm buildings.
I expect Hattie to take it all in—to consider how big of a decision this is at least for a second—but she doesn’t even break eye contact with me. Instead, a smile stretches across her face.
She ticks off on her fingers.
“A) I won’t regret it. It’s a good investment. I will profit long term. And B) I know we’re new, and this may not last. Even if we don’t, I’ll still feel good about making a difference for you and your family.” She gives a little shrug. “And I will still make a profit.”
She doesn’t know that. Hell, I don’t even know that.
